


Creative Taxidermy

by assemblingbrokenmemories



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Shape of Water (2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Amphibian Creature Bucky Barnes, Blood and Violence, Bruce Banner & Tony Stark Friendship, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Character Death, Character Sort Of Death?, Human/Monster Romance, M/M, Mute Steve Rogers, Other, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Sam Wilson Is a Good Bro, Shape of Water AU, Steve Rogers Needs a Hug, Tony Stark Has A Heart
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-17
Updated: 2018-06-18
Packaged: 2019-05-24 10:37:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 21,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14953065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/assemblingbrokenmemories/pseuds/assemblingbrokenmemories
Summary: Steve Rogers finds himself fascinated by the creature in laboratory F-1. While Hydra Labs brings in many a terror, this one seems different. What starts as curiosity quickly blossoms into something more. As they learn to communicate while facing the ever pressing danger of the higher ups at Hydra Labs, they learn more about each other while also learning more about themselves than they bargained for.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [jinlinli](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jinlinli/gifts).



> This fic has been an incredible journey and I'm so glad I finally get to share it with people! This has been the result of much blood, sweat, and tears and copious run throughs of both the film and its novelization. Thank you to the amazing Jinlini whose art was the inspiration for this work! It will appear in a later chapter. It was absolutely gorgeous and I'm so happy I was able to give it a story to go with it. I would also like to thank my friend awesomeeatsyou who provided the beta work for this fic, and to my friend burlesquecomposer for providing feedback and cheerleading. It's been a whirlwind process, but here we are! Please enjoy~

“Sheesh! Look at this mess,” Sam huffed, picking up yet another wad of discarded plastic wrap. “You’d think people would learn not to throw their trash everywhere, but here we are with trash-” He paused to gesture at the wads of plastic and cardboard strewn about the lab. “Everywhere.” 

Steve shook his head, offering a near-soundless sigh in a show of commiserating with Sam. For all the clamoring that Sitwell and the higher ups did about keeping Hydra’s environment sterile, the scientists and others who worked there seemed to find creative ways to leave large messes behind for the janitorial staff. 

The contractors and scientists had even been working on this lab for well over a week, but even that didn’t seem to have given them enough time for whatever was coming. They scurried about the room, hardly paying Sam or Steve any mind in their hurry. Sleeves of plastic wrap and discarded cardboard boxes littered the room as they hastily set up what appeared to be a series of measuring instruments tied to the pool that had been constructed in the back of the room. 

Steve could only imagine what they were going to usethat for, though most people who’d worked at Hydra Labs for any length of time knew better than to ask. Far too often curiosity ended with glimpses of abominations and grisly experiments that left one feeling ill. The janitorial staff wasn’t often permitted to see the true extent of the experimentation— Hydra was far too concerned with keeping its secrets— but Steve and Sam had been called in a few times to mop up the messes left behind. Steve suspected if he’d seen too much more, he might not still be employed at the lab. 

“Will you watch it?!” one of the workers snapped, only just managing not to barrel into Steve with a heavy piece of equipment. 

Steve skittered to the side and out of his way, train of thought effectively snapped. 

“Damn mute. Least you could do is stay out of the way,” the worker growled. Concern immediately melted in way of anger, Steve’s scowl growing as he took a step after the person. Heavy equipment or no… But almost as soon as he’d taken the step forward, a hand caught his arm causing his glare to level back towards Sam instead. 

“Cool it, alright?” Sam responded. “Everyone’s tempers are running hot. Doesn’t mean I want to scrape your ass off this lab floor along with all this trash.” 

_“Asshole_ ,” Steve signed in response after he shrugged out of Sam’s grip, anger still coursing through him. Steve knew the other people who worked night shift had always held him in lower regard due to his inability to speak, but that didn’t mean he’d ever taken it from any of them. It was his reputation of starting fights that had swayed a lot of them from seeking any sort of friendship from him, Sam had said. Steve had told him not so kindly where they could stick in return. 

“Yeah, yeah. Sure hope you don’t mean me,” Sam responded. “I can only save you from trouble so many times before one of them catches you when I’m not around.” 

Steve gave him an unimpressed look, irritation still rampant. He didn’t get a chance to sign anything in return, however, because the great lab doors chose that moment to slide open, announcing visitors.

“You’re still in here?” Sitwell started as soon as he’d stepped into the facility, followed by another man Steve didn’t recognize. He sounded somewhere between harried and angry, but then in the nearly ten years that Steve had worked for Hydra Labs he’d grown used to it. “We were supposed to have this lab set up yesterday.”

“It’s almost as if people keep changing their minds every fifteen minutes,” Sam mumbled to Steve in their corner of the lab. “Can’t imagine what they’re bringing in with all of this. Quite frankly, I’m not sure I want to know.”

Steve could only give him a look that conveyed agreement in response. He tried to stamp down the wave of frustration that came from having the arguably quieter means of communication but not wanting to evoke Sitwell’s attention or further ire by signing a response out to Sam. That could wait for later, he supposed.

“I need everybody out in the next fifteen minutes,” Sitwell intoned to the group, rounding about on each of them with his clipboard clutched in his hands. “Clean up what you’re doing and make sure there are no scraps left behind.” This last part was directed very firmly at Sam and Steve, Sitwell’s gaze lingering on them before looking pointedly at the cleaning carts standing between he and them.

Sitwell’s micromanaging tirade was cut abruptly short when the lab doors slid open once again, a stream of people looking far less like scientists and much more like armored guards thundering into the room. Steve shot a questioning look Sam’s way, only to earn a shrug in response. They all wore heavy armor and were helping to heave what looked like a great metal pressure chamber into the room. Once they’d reached the center of the room, they stopped and once the great noise of heavy boots stopped Steve could hear the slosh of water from inside the metal canister they’d brought in. 

The man that followed this armored troop put the rest of the guards to shame in pure menace. Decked in tactical gear but sans the mask the others were wearing, he held what looked to be some sort of heavy duty rod in his hands. He bounced it off one hand as he swaggered into the room, stopping at the head of the container with a sneer on his face. 

“What’re all these people doing in here?” he asked, disgust laced in his voice as he surveyed the construction crew and then Steve and Sam by their carts. “I thought I told you I wanted the room cleared before we brought in the asset.” 

“I was working on it,” Sitwell responded, voice finding some happy middle ground between fearful of this unfamiliar man and annoyed that he had arrived before Sitwell had had a chance to properly vet the room. “I was just explaining to everyone here that the asset is the most sensitive asset we’ve seen in Hydra facilities and that they were _not_ to enter the room unless directed to do so clearly by either you, Dr. Banner, or myself.” 

Steve took another glance at the man standing just slightly behind Sitwell who was currently adjusting his glasses. If the lab coat was anything to go off of, the unassuming seeming man must have been Dr. Banner. As soon as the guards had stepped away from the tank, he slipped from Sitwell’s side and began to check the various pressure gauges that appeared to have been attached to its outside. He hardly paid any mind to the others in the room. 

“Listen up,” the guard barked, commanding the attention of the entire lab. “I’m Rumlow, and as Sitwell said this asset here is incredibly sensitive and more important than any one of you in the room. I expect you’ll just go about your jobs and not make a fuss, but if you do? You’ll be dealt with. Got it?” 

Steve, on the other hand, had admittedly only been half listening. As soon as Dr. Banner had checked the pressure gauges on the tank, he’d moved off to check the gauges on the pool at the other end of the room, leaving the tank temporarily unguarded. Steve knew that they probably weren’t supposed to approach the tank, but a noise vaguely reminiscent of whalesong burbled up from amidst the sounds of water moving. 

Whatever was in there was alive, and it was both moving and attempting some form of communication. There was another noise, this time more of a groan, and the water sloshed once again. Steve found himself taking a step towards the tank, drawn by a need to know what was inside that had everyone in the lab so on edge. This felt different from the other assets that often saw themselves come through the labs, and he wanted to know _why_. 

He took a quick glance around the room to see if anyone was watching him. Rumlow had turned to the side and was discussing something in not so hushed whispers with Sitwell while Dr. Banner appeared to be making adjustment to the water in the tank. Sam had resumed cleaning while everyone else in the lab seemed to be hastily cleaning up the remaining mess from their preparations. Even the guards who’d come in with the tank seemed to have melted into the woodwork somewhere, their job completed for the moment now that they’d moved the asset into the room. The road was clear. 

Steve closed the distance between he and the tank in an instant, watching carefully in case someone’s wandering eyes might turn back his way again. Once closer, it became clear that the top of the tank had been crafted from heavy glass, giving a clear view of the murky water that filled the tank and obscured anything inside of it from view. Amidst the murkiness, however, were flashes of _light_. The first time, Steve thought it was a trick of his eyes but it was quickly followed by another and then another. The flashes were small and subtle, beautiful shades of blue as they flickered briefly across the surface. Steve watched them play across the sloshing water with bated breath, certain he’d never seen anything quite like it yet. 

Slowly, he moved a hand towards the glass surface, intent to trace one of the flashes of light as it played along it. He let his finger trace one along the glass, entranced by the way they seemed to flicker like fish just underneath, visible but only just barely. Steve briefly wondered if the asset might not be hundreds of tiny _assets_ , some sort of fish or something that they’d brought back to experiment on. 

To use until they’d discovered all of their secrets and then be disposed of so no one else could learn them. The thought brought a renewed flicker of fury on behalf of the asset, an anger that something so beautiful could be so clearly mistreated and everyone went about treating it like it was normal. It was times like these where he wished he had a voice and that he didn’t feel so _other_ from those at the lab— he’d use it to tell them just what he thought of their practices. 

Steve splayed a hand over the glass, wondering if he might gain some sort of reaction from the dazzling, flickering lights under the surface. There was another almost musical groan from beneath the surface of the water, this time the sound somewhere in a deeper register that seemed to almost mingle a human groan with the lilting notes of some ocean creature’s song. Steve stroked the glass, trying to convey his sorrow at the creature’s misfortune, his righteous anger at what they had no doubt done to get it here. 

With a speed that startled Steve away from the glass, there was the sound of heavy contact against the glass as a _hand_ emerged from the murky depths and flattened itself against the surface with no small amount of force. Steve’s eyes widened— the hand looked vaguely human, but only just. It had five fingers, yes, but the whole tone of the hand was _off_ , swirls of blues and greens, speckled with darker splashes of black and glittering speckles of a burnished gold, the texture looking more like that of a frog’s than the makeup of human skin. Each finger was connected to the next with a translucent sort of webbing, and each ended in the curved claw of a creature that might have been made to do some damage. Even so, the palm looked almost the color of flesh, and the fingers seemed to pulse against the glass as if they were looking for a point of contact with the much smaller hand that had been pressed up against the glass moments ago. 

There was another groan from inside the tank, this one more agitated as the hand slammed against the glass again and caused the tank to rock with the force of the water sloshing inside. 

“God _damn it_! Who let you near the tank!” Rumlow shouted, his attention and ire now drawn. “The god damn cleaning crew? Don’t they know not to touch things?” 

“Get them out.” Dr. Banner’s voice rang from by the pool, the first time Steve had heard his voice since he’d come into the lab. Steve recoiled further away from the tank, and this time Sam was there to grab his arm and lead him back even further.

“Go on, you heard him,” Sitwell responded. “Get out. All of you! Go! We’ll call you back if you’re needed!” 

There was a rustle in the lab as everyone prepared to exit the laboratory, leaving just the guards that had now reappeared. Sam led Steve by the arm to his cart, grabbing his own. 

“What were you thinking?” he asked. “Lord, sometimes I don’t know what to do with you.” 

_“Did you see it?”_ Steve signed, but a look from Sam had him grabbing his cart and following in frustrated silence to clear the lab. The last glimpse he got was of Dr. Banner hovering over the tank, checking its instruments once again as if that might be the secret to keeping whatever was in there calm. 

Steve was determined to find out just what that was. 

-*-

Steve’s thoughts were still lingering on F-1’s new occupant even as Sam ushered him forward to clock out at the end of the day. The lights had been so entrancing and beautiful that he couldn’t help the way his thoughts returned back to them. Each time it inevitably turned back to the hand that had emerged from the water, pressing against the glass with a desperation for some kind of contact. It had startled him, yes, but it hadn’t left him entirely fearful either. 

“Will you get a move on?” One of his coworkers shouted from behind. “I knew he was mute, but I didn’t think he was dumb, too! The rest of us would like to get out of here.” 

“Calm down, Yolanda,” Sam shot back, turning to face the woman as Steve fumbled for his card and shoved it into the clock to stamp his time card. “You’ll get out of here just in time for the bus, just like you always do.” 

“He could still get a move on,” she snapped back, but Steve had already moved out of the way so Sam could stamp his card. “Damn mute.” 

Steve had long since grown used to the insults hurled by his coworkers over his muteness, but today it didn’t even bring about his customary brushing of the scars at his neck. It wasn’t as if any of the others working the night shift had any room to talk— they’d all ended up working for Hydra Labs because of _something_. The odd scars on Steve’s neck and his inability to speak might have been amongst the most curious and unique, but none of the others had ended up on such detail by choice. It was a job for those who had been cast aside by society- whether it be for something like the color of their skin or an underlying unwillingness to share their past. Steve was far too preoccupied to give it much mind. 

This haze of thought stayed with him as he gave Sam a non committal wave when they parted ways at the bus stop and even as he climbed into the beat up van that Tony picked him up in each day at the end of his shift. Steve had always been grateful on Tony’s insistence of doing so, even if he wasn’t so certain of the reasoning behind it. He might have said it was altruistic, but Steve had a feeling Tony’s own curiosity drew him to try gleaning information of Hydra’s inner workings by picking Steve up each morning. 

“Well, aren’t you surprisingly chipper for someone whose been up all night,” Tony offered, though the oversaturated joy in his tone was quickly marred by a yawn. Steve could tell he’d likely been up all night as well by the way his hair seemed to settle in tufts going every direction. 

_“And you look like you’ve been up all night,”_ Steve signed in return. 

“Also apparently rude this morning,” Tony amended, frowning. “If you’d just ask nicely I might tell you all about the thing that kept me up all night.” 

If Steve had to guess, he’d place the blame on Tony coming up with another project he needed desperately to finish. This one, he’d assert, would be his big break. Steve only hoped that was the case, as the substantial holding Tony had once managed to have seemed to be diminishing every year with the continued inability of investors to see the true genius in his work. Tony had told him it was because they thought his work was too far ahead of the time- he was an underappreciated asset of the decade they lived in. 

“Or you could explain to me who that slightly more grouchy bespectacled man is over there,” Tony broke in again, already switching gears. When Steve looked over to see who he was talking about he noticed one of the scientists from F-1— Dr. Banner, was it? He rolled his eyes in response. 

_“Not as interesting as the thing he came with,”_ Steve signed in response. Tony’s eyes were constantly wandering, but he was far too concerned about the consequences to do anything. Plus, he was right about the creature in the lab being far more interesting. 

“Okay, well I’ll have you tell me about this ‘more interesting’ when we get home, alright? I can’t watch the road and your signs at the same time unfortunately,” Tony responded. Steve frowned, but consented as Tony pulled his beat up van away from the curb so they could head back to the movie theater and the apartments that they lived in over them. 

-*-

“…Wait, so it _glows_?” Tony asked Steve, nearly tripping over the entryway into his apartment as he attempted to keep his eyes instead on Steve’s hands as he signed. “Bioluminescence is a part of nature, I suppose. Several fish display it, and some smaller organisms-” 

_“It’s not small,”_ Steve responded in sign. He held up his hand indicating it for a moment. _“It’s hand was bigger than mine.”_

“I hate to break it to you,” Tony offered with a bark of laughter. “But your hands aren’t exactly large. Are you sure what you saw was a hand? And not the whole body of a fish throwing itself against the glass trying to escape? With all the tension in that lab it’s possible—” 

Steve scowled at him, causing Tony to break the comment off mid sentence and shake his head. 

“Of course you are. Even if you weren’t, you’d convince yourself,” Tony muttered, shuffling around a few dismantled mechanical contraptions to grant them bot a seat at the table. “Breakfast?” 

Steve shook his head in response. He’d never found food appetizing, and the collection of dishes Tony usually stashed in his fridge tended to appeal to him even less. If he wasn’t still so excited about the happening in the lab, he probably would have already trudged back to his own apartment to turn in for the day. 

“But this… whatever it is. Did you actually see it?” Tony asked.

Steve shook his head, a little sullen at the notion. 

_“When it reacted they made us leave. All I saw were the lights and the hand.”_ He wished he’d seen more, _wanted_ to see more. 

“I can see the wheels turning in that bullhead of yours,” Tony commented, pausing in his fishing through his fridge. “You want to see it more.” 

Steve couldn’t deny that. He was fascinated by the creature, whatever it was, and he could already feel the inspiration coming to him. Maybe he wouldn’t go straight to sleep. He didn’t need to stay here much longer— then he could retreat to his room and enjoy the solitude to capture the image floating through his mind. It had fueled him through the work day, made him eager to return. 

It didn’t take much longer before Tony realized his prodding wouldn’t get him much further. With a show of frustration, he ushered Steve out of his apartment and back to his own, citing a need to get on with his own schedule for the day. Instead of curling up on the couch and willing sleep to come, however, Steve pulled out one of his sketchbooks and set to capturing the mysterious clawed hand on paper. 

It would take him far into the day, leaving him scrounging for a sparse few hours of sleep before he returned to work with the hope of being put on duty in F-1 again.


	2. Chapter 2

For the following few days, however, F-1 continued to exist only as a vague memory with no opportunity for further exploration. Each day Steve would check the cleaning schedule he was handed with hope, only to find the same dreary list of offices and vacated labs he was given almost every other day of the week. He’d even gone so far as to ask Sam about his schedule, but Sam hadn’t been assigned to the lab either. 

“I’d rather stay as far away from that lab as possible,” Sam responded. “Do you see all the guards posted around there? There’s no way I want to be involved in all of that.” 

Sam was right— the lab was almost constantly crawling with guards. Where the labs at Hydra usually saw their small clumps of scientists coming out of them as they worked on their projects, F-1 seemed to have a team of guards almost double the number of scientists. Most of them seemed to pay no mind to the scientists from other labs, janitors, or other workers in the building. In fact, Steve hardly saw them anywhere else except for coming in and out of that lab. 

Steve was forced to go about his schedule, though it was far more entertaining to think about what might lie inside F-1 than think about the bathroom they were cleaning. 

“You’d think with all the geniuses in this building they might be able to figure out how to hit the urinal every time,” Sam quipped as he mopped at the floor underneath the urinals. “How hard could it be to aim? They’ve had it since they were kids, they should know how to use it.” 

Even Sam’s humorous quips weren’t enough to keep Steve’s attention tonight. As he wiped down the counter around the sink, he was busy running through his observations of the guards. They all seemed to leave for a break at the same time. The lab was on lockdown, but his cleaning key card would still have access. It would only give him a few minutes before Dr. Banner or Rumlow circled back from their own breaks, but surely he’d be able to figure out something about what lay inside the lab… 

Sam’s chatter, however, was cut off when the door of the bathroom swung open. Both Steve and Sam’s attention shifted quickly to whoever might be entering. 

“I’m sorry, sir, but the bathroom-” Sam’s words tapered off as Rumlow, head of security around F-1’s asset, sauntered into the bathroom carrying something in one hand. He’d clearly paid no mind to the “closed for cleaning” sign they’d hung on the door. Instead of ducking back out as most did, the man came further into the bathroom and set the rod-shaped object down on the counter that Steve had just finished cleaning. Steve glared at the object, before his eyes widened at what he was looking at- a rather mean looking cattle prod. What did he need a cattle prod for? 

“You got a problem?” Rumlow asked, eyes focusing on him. 

“Oh no, we just weren’t expecting any visitors while we cleaned,” Sam responded. “We can get out of your way.” Steve could hear the irritation in Sam’s voice, but he hoped the other was keeping it contained enough that Rumlow couldn’t also. 

Steve couldn’t take his eyes off the cattle prod, however, and the dark substance that seemed to coat the prongs at one end. 

“You like that?” Rumlow asked, causing Steve’s attention to whip up once more. “That’s called the Alabama Howdy-do. Wouldn’t touch it if I were you, as pretty as it’d probably be to hear you scream.” The look Rumlow leveled felt almost predatory, and Steve was torn between recoiling back and lashing out in his disgust over it. Rumlow’s attention flickered back to the cattle prod even as he continued to wash his hands. “Molded handle, low current, high-voltage cattle prod. Thing packs a nasty wallop if you’re on the wrong end of it.” 

Rumlow left it on the sink as he moved over to the urinal, unzipping the front of his pants while he kept his eyes on the two janitors. Steve could already tell he wasn’t going to make any effort to _aim_ , ruining the work Sam had just been doing. 

“Rumlow. Head of security for this shitshow,” Rumlow offered. Steve winced and look away though it did nothing about the sight of the cattle prod or the sound of Rumlow taking care of business. 

“I thought Sitwell was the head of security,” Sam interjected. 

“Not while I’m here,” Rumlow responded. “Gotta make sure this ship runs tight. No funny business from anyone here.” The words seemed laced and accusatory. Steve continued to wipe at the counter furiously, trying to disguise his own fury. He _couldn’t_ get into a fight on company grounds. 

“Well, you won’t find any funny business here,” Sam offered flatly. “Just doing our jobs, cleaning the bathroom.” 

“Yeah, we’ll see about that,” Rumlow offered them both, turning his attention their way again. Steve was grateful that he’d at least finished when he did. “I’ll see you both around.” 

Rumlow zipped up again, keeping his eyes on them as he went to leave. He looked Steve over, the attention near strangling him in discomfort and fury, before he went to retrieve the cattle prod still resting on the counter. Steve’s eyes could only hone in on the drops of scarlet blood left speckled on the surface where Rumlow’s weapon had once rested.

-*-

Steve was unable to put the weapon out of his mind even as he resumed the rest of his cleaning list. It only cemented in his mind that there was something _living_ in that lab, and that it was likely a lot bigger than the fish Tony seemed to think it was. He still wasn’t exactly sure what to make of the cattle prod. It’s presence left an uncomfortable pit in his stomach, especially given that there had been blood on it. On one hand, it meant the thing inside F-1 was likely very dangerous, but on the other hand it seemed far too much like an instrument of torture. He’d been around Hydra Labs long enough to know that wasn’t out of the realm of possibility. 

Steve was even more determined to find out exactly what it was that they were keeping in F-1. 

“What’s got you so lost in our own head you’re barely paying attention?” Sam asked as they wheeled their carts down the halls later that night. They’d been given an assignment together- one of the big labs in the F wing needed cleaning out since the scientists had moved on. Steve almost hadn’t realized he’d faded out from even giving his customary nods as Sam filled the silence with stories of the previous day. 

Steve didn’t get a chance to respond, however, as the clanking sound of one of the lab doors opening interrupted the relative silence of the hallway. Both of their heads turned in time to see the brawny figure of Rumlow staggering from the doors of F-1, followed by the much more hasty steps of Dr. Banner. 

“Someone call for help! He’s bleeding- I don’t know if it got his eyes!” Dr. Banner’s tone was urgent, and it drew their attention to the dark trail that seemed to follow Rumlow from the lab… 

Rumlow’s own cry, somewhere between pained and enraged, broke the focus as he turned down the hallway to face them. His face, indeed, was awash in the crimson of his own blood. It was difficult to find the features on his face, however, between the blood and the awful gashes that seemed to swipe across the man’s face. His eyes were screwed shut, the grimace on his face horrific. It didn’t help that the blood had found its way on to the front of the man’s shirt and gear, enhancing the grisly scene. 

The guards reappeared in the hallway moments later, materializing seemingly out of nowhere to surround the injured man. A few moments later, an alarm started blaring in the hallway to call for the help they needed. 

Sam grabbed Steve by the arm before he could push forward. 

“Let them take care of it,” he offered. “Come on, we’ll take care of the lab later once they clear this all out.” 

Steve found himself torn between fascination and frustration, but with another insistent look from Sam they turned their carts and headed to the next lab on their list.

-*-

“Wilson! Rogers!” Sitwell’s voice barked across the staff dining hall later that evening. Sam had just purchased his meal off one of the trays and they’d been heading to sit at one of the few empty tables in the section reserved for the custodians and janitorial staff. “Come with me, please!” 

Sitwell looked harried, somewhere between his usual panicked self and… disgusted. His face and hands were unusually pale as he gestured for them, waving them over to him. 

“Couldn’t finish our dinner first?” Sam asked, tone flat and face unamused. 

“Just- come on! Go get your carts and make sure you have your key cards,” Sitwell hissed, begging no argument as he turned to leave the dining area. 

“Well, let’s go see what has his underwear in a bunch,” Sam offered, huffing a sigh as he discarded the fresh plate of food. Steve gripped his own lunch bag and followed Sam to retrieve their carts where an impatient, foot-tapping Sitwell was already waiting for them. As soon as they were there, he was off and leading them back to F-1. 

The hallway outside looked freshly mopped, but as Sitwell slid his card key through the slot he muttered to himself about the amount of trouble this incident was going to cause the labs. He ushered them in with shaky hands, following after them into the lab. 

“You have twenty minutes,” he offered, voice a quivering mess of urgency. “To get this lab _spotless_ , do you understand? Twenty minutes and all of this-” he gestured wildly at the lab. “Needs to be like it never happened. Now get to work.” 

The lab looked even more horrific than Rumlow had when he’d come out of it. A lab table had been set up in the center of the room, not surprising considering the experiments that usually went on here. What _was_ surprising was that the surface of the table and the floor around it were coated in blood. Whatever had happened to leave Rumlow in such a state had clearly happened in the center of this room. 

“That’s… blood,” Sam responded, letting out all the breath he’d been holding. “It’s coagulating already, but that’s blood.” Sam offered it with a matter-of-factness that came with the decade’s worth of being called in to clean up messes just like this. He set to work, taking a bucket of water and spilling it onto the floor to begin cleaning up the mess. Steve grabbed the mops, handing one off to Sam as they began mopping.

“Damn, we’re going to need some bigger buckets to get this whole mess up,” Sam commented after the first bucket of water seemed to make barely a dent in the carnage they were supposed to be mopping up. “I’m going to grab them. Keep working, alright? Last thing we need is Sitwell coming in here and fussing all over our asses.” 

As soon as Sam had left, however, Steve found himself slipping away from the mopping to explore the lab once again. The pool still stood in the back corner, but a tank had been set up on the side. A glass front showed that it was filled with water, though in the dim light of the lab Steve couldn’t see all the way to its back. It looked like it might even connect to the pool in some fashion. Steve approached it carefully, running a hand gingerly over the glass front. 

He hadn’t expected motion on the other side of the glass, but as soon as his hand reached the surface there was the sound of water stirring and a sign of movement in the shadows of the tank. Steve squinted, trying to get a better view of what was going on inside the tank. Was it…? 

His efforts were met with the flicker of lights amidst the darkness. The same pattern of glowing lights from the day they’d moved the asset into F-1 seemed to have started up again, though this time they covered a much larger area. Steve found himself pressing both hands to the glass, enamored by the lights. As he watched, the shape shifted, seeming to come closer to the front of the tank. The moments stretched on as it inched forward, the same clawed hand coming into the light accompanied with a curious sounding noise. 

Steve watched with baited breath, waiting for the creature to come forward. For all that the curved claws seemed terrifying (and likely the source of Rumlow’s injury), there was something wary about the creature. Even so, Steve didn’t feel like there was reason to be afraid. 

He did jump, however, when the doors of the lab suddenly shifted open once again. The dark shadow, so close to visible, darted back into the depths of the tank. The flickering lights over its shape dimmed and went out, sending Steve’s heart sinking with disappointment. 

“You just been standing around?” Sam asked him as he came back in, larger buckets in tow. “The lab’s not going to clean itself, and I’m not cleaning it all alone. Let’s get to work.” 

Steve stole one small glance back at the glass tank, frowning sadly that its inhabitant had all but disappeared from view. It only deepened when he saw the dark swirl in the water that showed Rumlow might not have been the only one injured. He stepped away from the glass, slipping back into mopping even if his gaze caught far too many times on the tank in the corner of the room. He knew the creature likely wouldn’t show itself again, especially not when Sam started whistling as they cleaned, but it didn’t stop him from hoping. 

-*-

“Wait, so you’re telling me you saw.. Whatever it was?” Tony asked as he shoved a bowl of cereal Steve’s way. Tony had been flitting around his apartment all morning, skirting around the remnants of old inventions as he gathered things into a briefcase. 

_“Yes,”_ Steve signed in response, frustration warring with excitement due to Tony’s lack of attention. He took a few small bites of the cereal before setting it down, returning to the sketch book he’d brought with him. He’d been trying to capture the fleeting image on the canvas as Tony prepared to leave for an interview of some sort. 

“And you’re saying that this creature rearranged someone’s face?” Tony asked. “And left an impressive bloodbath, from what you’ve told me?” 

_“They hurt him, too. It’s no wonder he attacked Rumlow_ ,” Steve signed in return, abandoning his pencil for the moment because of Tony’s line of questioning. From the brief encounters he’d had with Rumlow, Steve wouldn’t even blame him. If the cattle prod and the blood had been anything to go by, this encounter had been a long time coming. 

“Okay, but it’s still dangerous,” Tony responded. “If it could do that to a guy trained for security.” He’d stopped to focus his attention on Steve, coming over to glance over his shoulder at the pencil drawing Steve had been working on. 

“ _That’s_ all you saw?” he asked. “Steve- that’s an interestingly shaped blob.” 

Steve turned around enough that he could glare at Tony in response. The frustration, however, was partially directed at himself for being unable to sufficiently capture the brief glimpse he’d seen of the creature that day. 

“Look, I’ve got to run to this interview, alright? We’re going to have to table this discussion for later. You should finish that bowl of cereal and get some sleep,” Tony offered in response, both hastily shifting the subject and giving him a concerned look. “We both know you don’t do enough of either. Then you can walk me through all of this one more time.” 

Steve frowned, but let him go. He waved him off, shooing him out the door. 

“Not gonna wish me luck?” he asked, pausing at the door with his briefcase under his arm. 

Steve rolled his eyes, before signing _“Good luck”_ to him quickly as he left. Once Tony was out the door, he returned to his sketch. If he could just get another look at the creature, he was certain he could draw something convincing enough to win Tony’s belief.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Art for this chapter was provided by the lovely Jinlinli. It was her piece who inspired this whole fic!

Steve only felt a small parcel of guilt as he forewent meeting Sam and the other custodians out by the loading dock for their smoke break. Steve had never been a big fan of the hazy puffs of smoke that cluttered up the air and made it feel hard to breathe. He’d simply weathered through that short space of time because he knew it made Sam happy. Steve may never have been close with any of the others-- that was just the way of things when you couldn’t communicate verbally-- but Sam had friendly relations with just about all of them. In truth, the other probably wouldn’t even notice that Steve wasn’t there until the break was almost over, a fact that Steve couldn’t even find it in himself to be bitter about today. 

The hallway leading up to lab F-1 was blessedly clear as he diverted his cleaning cart into a tiny alcove by the restrooms. The last of the scientists seemed to be heading down the opposite hallway towards their dining room, the echo of their footsteps slowly fading. Taking one more careful sweep of the hallway, Steve took a deep breath, left his cart, and found himself approaching the heavy metal door he’d only entered a handful of times before. 

F-1 had an entirely different feel to it when it wasn’t filled with the swirl of scientists and the pleasant bubble of Sam’s cleaning chatter. It was silent- almost deathly so- but it didn’t stop the hairs from raising at the back of Steve’s neck. He gripped the lunch bag he’d brought in with him tightly to his chest, taking one step further into the room and towards the dark pool that occupied the greater part of the back half. The room stayed silent as he moved across the concrete floor, only the muffled sound of his own careful steps disrupting it. The only thing that convinced Steve they hadn’t moved the creature somewhere else was the heavy chain fixed through a series of hooks in the wall. From there, it disappeared somewhere into the depths of the murky water, unmoving. Despite being pulled taut, it didn’t even shudder as Steve approached the thick concrete lip of the pool. 

For a brief moment Steve imagined Sam being here with him, the platitudes or offers of kindness the other might offer to the pool in exchange for not having his face torn open the way Rumlow’s had been. Sam probably would also have tried to convince Steve that such a gesture was crazy, that he was out of his mind, and it was for precisely that reason that Steve had chosen to make this contact without him. 

With no words to offer, Steve opened the brown paper bag he’d brought carefully, drawing out a single hard boiled egg from inside with a careful breath. He regarded it for a brief moment, wishing he had something better to offer. Taking a spoon from his pocket, he carefully cracked the delicate shell open in a line so he could free the edible part from the now halved shell. When even that small bit of commotion earned no reaction of note from the pond, Steve gingerly placed the discarded halves of shell back into the brown paper bag before setting the rest on the ledge of the pool.

Steve had been half expecting for the creature to lunge out of the water as soon as he put the egg down, so when he slipped away from the pool without so much as a ripple on the surface he was almost disappointed. Relieved, yes, that the gesture hadn’t received immediate aggression, but he’d been hoping for some kind of response. He took one deliberate step away from the pool, eyes still honed in on the single hard-boiled egg he’d left perched on its edge. 

The moments of silence seemed to last a lifetime. Steve had taken two more steps back, his whole body rigid with the tension of the scientists’ return to find him here, considering leaving all together. Maybe the creature wasn’t a fan of the offering, or maybe it didn’t want any sort of contact with humans as a whole. Steve couldn’t say he’d blame them, given that they’d been captured and held by such awful ones. He’d lifted his foot to take one final step back when there was the small ‘blip’ of water in motion, the ripple created only just noticeable. 

Then the creature’s head emerged from the water. The top of their head, rather, eyes glittering and just visible above the waterline. They were almost obscured by the dark mop of what seemed to be hair, the thick mass seeming both damp and impossibly voluminous, but they seemed to focus in on the pale shape of the egg where it rested. 

Steve had to remind himself to breathe. 

The intake of breath, however small, caused the creature’s eyes to abruptly shift focus. Though Steve could only see the barest of glimmer from beneath the thick mess of ‘hair’, the prickle on the back of his neck only made him certain that the creature was staring directly at him. He couldn’t decide whether it felt hostile or not, though he briefly considered how cruel it would be to be killed for the one time he didn’t try to start a fight. 

But the eyes shifted, abruptly becoming more human in a way that Steve swore must have been a trick of the light. Instead of dark pinpricks, they took on a hue vaguely reminiscent of his own but far more pale and grey. It made a small noise in response, almost a gurgle but not quite on the same pitch. There was a slight hissing note to it that kept Steve back, even as the creature seemed just as content to keep the distance between them. 

_“For you.”_ Steve attempted to sign, indicating the egg still sitting undisturbed on the edge of the pool. The creature’s eyes flicked downwards for a moment, taking it in before they came back up to Steve. Steve’s attention was caught, wavering by the depth in the blue-grey of the creature’s eyes even as it reflected confusion back at him. 

Steve gestured to the egg once again, accompanying the gesture with the sign for “egg” before he touched the tips of his fingers together and brought them to his mouth in the sign for eating. Even the other workers who looked at him with confusion at the best of moments seemed to understand what he was trying to convey when he made that sign. 

The creature’s eyes flickered down once more to the egg, letting out a series of noises that sounded almost contemplative. Then, all in one near-blinding motion, it swiped the egg up in one of the webbed hands Steve remembered being pressed up against the glass and dove back under the water and out of sight. The motion set his heart pounding in his chest, jack hammering in a way that made his limbs feel weak.

He’d been here too long, and the scientists would likely return any moment. Before Steve could wait to see if the creature would resurface, he clutched the brown paper bag tighter to his chest and disappeared out the doors of the lab. 

“Steve? What were you doing in there?” Sam’s voice greeted him as he slipped back into the hallway. Steve was only just able to keep himself from jumping and looking far too guilty about his encounter in F-1. His heart was still racing, but he attempted to calm himself as he faced Sam. 

_“Cleaning. Dr. Banner asked me to empty the waste baskets,”_ he signed to the other, schooling his expression to be as convincing as possible. 

“Well, whatever you were doing Rumlow wants to see us,” Sam offered, a single raised eyebrow dictating his disbelief in what Steve was trying to tell him. At least Sam had the good grace to leave it for now, instead ushering for him to follow along as they headed to Sitwell’s now repurposed office. Rumlow was standing in the window, a series of bandages managing to cover what Steve imagined was the numerous stitches currently holding his face together. He watched them as they made their way across the control space of the labs and up the stairs to the office. 

“About time you got here,” Rumlow growled as he ushered them in, pointing to two chairs that face away from the glass and towards the bank of security cameras behind the desk. He followed behind them, slapping two files on the desk. Steve could just make out he and Sam’s names on them. 

“Sam Wilson, huh?” Rumlow asked, leveling his gaze towards Sam first. Sam gave a small nod in response. “How long have you two known each other?” 

“Steve and I? We’ve been working here together for about twelve years now,” Sam offered, his voice pleasant, but not nearly as lively as it was with any of their coworkers. Steve suspected it was an attempt not to rile the other up so they could get through this as painlessly as possible. 

“Steve Rogers?” Rumlow asked, eyes flicking up to focus on Steve in a way that made him feel distinctly queasy. 

Steve nodded in response to the question, lips pursed tightly together. 

“Says in your file you’re an orphan,” Rumlow commented, flipping it open as if to demonstrate the information was there. 

Steve nodded again, feeling his ire and discomfort rise even if he wasn’t entirely sure what Rumlow was getting at. The image of the cattle prod followed by the thread of blood in the water flickered through his mind, only cementing it more firmly in his mind. 

“Our Lady of Sorrows Orphanage?” Rumlow asked, tapping a section of the file. 

“It was some nuns from OLS who found Steve,” Sam offered, chiming in the story Steve had been told countless times by any number of the incredibly strict nuns who’d run the orphanage. Mother Superior had never been fond of him, for all that they’d saved his life. Far too much trouble, she’d said, getting into fights all the time when he couldn’t so much as speak a peep or a prayer. “By the water. No one ever came to claim him so they raised him there.” 

“Is there a reason you’re answering for him?” Rumlow asked, nose wrinkling as if in disgust. 

“Oh,” Sam responded. “I respond for Steve because he can’t talk. Usually he signs me his answer and I pass it on, but there’s a few answers I’ve gotten good at giving over the last twelve years.” 

“What do you mean he can’t talk?” Rumlow asked, the same derision in his voice. Steve had to fight now to jump in with something rude because Rumlow was definitely rubbing him the wrong way. 

“He can’t,” Sam reiterated. 

“What? Like he’s deaf? Or mentally incapable?” Rumlow asked and Steve clenched his fists against his thighs, teeth grating against each other at the implication. He’d had far too many people make those kinds of assumptions about him, and he’d long grown tired of the insult. 

Sam gave him a look, clearly entreating him to stay calm while he handled dealing with Rumlow. For all that Sam wasn’t the kind to lay down and take things, he was much better at handling people where Steve immediately jumped to anger. 

“He’s mute, sir. Has been as long as he can remember,” Sam offered, keeping his tone as neutral as possible. 

Rumlow’s interest seemed to increase at that, and he looked up from the file he’d been staring at to look more intently over at Steve. His eyes tracked over Steve’s frame, lighting on the scars Steve knew people often honed in on when trying to figure out what’s wrong with him. 

“So that’s what it is? Someone snip your vocal chords?” Rumlow asked in response. “That’s a pretty fucked up thing to do to a baby.” 

Steve almost reached up to cover the scars at his neck, not wanting the other to look at them. He stopped himself from doing so, however, because he didn’t want to give Rumlow the satisfaction of knowing he’d made him uncomfortable. 

The silence stretched out into a few tense, awkward moments before Rumlow finally cleared his voice again. 

“I’m gonna make this clear,” Rumlow offered, voice now authoritative. “You go in, you clean, you get out. No questions, no funny business. Got it?” 

“We’ve got it, sir,” Sam responded. Steve gave a small nod in response, grateful in this one moment that it was so easy to keep his thoughts to himself. 

“That thing in there is an abomination,” Rumlow continued. “Dangerous and blood thirsty. Not too keen on people either. You think my face looks bad? I’d hate to think what it’d do to either of you if it got its hands on you.”

Steve thought back to his initial interaction with the creature in there. It hadn’t seemed like it would attack without reason, not in that moment. He kept his head bowed, more to keep the irritation from flashing at Rumlow than in any gesture of submission. 

“So you stay away from that thing,” Rumlow responded. “I don’t want to be fishing pieces of either of you out of that pool in there.” 

Rumlow looked like he was going to say more, but the red phone sitting on his desk began ringing almost as soon as he’d thought to say anything. He instead moved to wave them both out hastily as he went to pick up the phone, popping a few pain pills as he did so. 

“Yes, Secretary Pierce,” he offered into the phone. “Thank you for calling me back…” 

The rest of the conversation was lost as Sam pulled him out the glass doors and back down the stairs to finish their shifts. 


	4. Chapter 4

After the first visit, the walls of reservation around visiting F-1 crumbled. Steve found himself slipping into a new routine at Hydra labs, one that existed entirely off paper and was all together more important than the list of labs and offices he was supposed to clean daily. What had once been lonely, silent hours spent separate from Sam became further opportunities for Steve to plan trips to visit the mysterious creature in the lab. 

The visits varied, moments snatched around busy cleaning schedules and the seemingly constant stream of scientists into the lab where the creature was held. Some days Steve was only just able to sneak in long enough to leave him treats of hard boiled eggs, meticulously cracked and lined along the edge of his pool. Other days, Steve was able to carve his lunch break out so that he was able to stay longer, sneaking in his sketchbook in a carton of cleaning supplies. 

During these visits he found himself attempting to catch the mysterious likeness of the creature on paper. No matter how many times Steve put pencil to paper, however, capturing the myriad of emotions and intricacies around the creature seemed to escape him entirely. There was always some detail off-- not ruining the sketch altogether but asserting itself just enough that Steve could not look at it without frustration. The images haunted him even after he’d left the facility and settled in to sleep for the day. 

Every meeting, however brief, only highlighted that there was something far different about this addition to Hydra Labs than the others that he’d come in contact with. The creature was intelligent, and something in his very presence gave Steve the impression that he carried a wisdom far greater than even the most brilliant scientists who’d worked there. Steve couldn’t explain it, but there was something in the very atmosphere of the lab that set its inhabitant apart. There had never been any doubt. 

Over the course of those first few visits, the creature had already learned a number of various signs, seeming to pick them up even from the brief conversations he observed Steve having with Sam or others. While they were clumsy, awkward on untrained limbs that sported webbed fingers at their ends, the signs were close enough that Steve could understand what he was trying to communicate. They had started with the sign for egg, Steve’s name, and even a sign Steve had come to recognize for Dr. Banner, but with each visit the vocabulary seemed to expand. The creature’s willingness and eagerness to improve their communication touched Steve in a way very few people had ever managed. Not many, after all, had been willing to learn his language. Even fewer, it seemed, were as willing and eager as the fish creature in F-1 was to _listen_ to what he had to say. 

It kept Steve coming back, braving discovery and the increasingly skeptical looks from Sam each time he slipped in beside him in a hallway, cleaning cart not nearly as empty as it should have been. 

“As long as you’re getting your work done,” Sam had intoned one day when Steve seemed unwilling to answer his questions. “There aren’t too many good people in this place. Hate to lose one of the few, alright? Keep that in mind, Steve.” 

Steve had nodded along in agreement, feeling at least slightly bad that his first thought was not of Sam, but his visits with the creature, as motivation not to get fired. Something in the look he received in turn made him all too aware that Sam might have a better idea of it than he let on. Steve knew he should at least try to make it up to Sam later. 

_“It feels wrong.”_ He signed to Tony one morning as they ate their last and first meals of the day, respectively. They’d been watching some program on television, but Steve had lost focus on it long before he’d decided to express the thoughts to Tony. 

“Mm? You’ve lost me, Steven,” Tony responded, still half asleep and offering the words around the leftover meatloaf from the cafe across the street. Normally, Steve would have grimaced and signed at him about how difficult and disgusting it was to read his lips when there was food in his mouth. Today, however, he was deeper in thought. 

_“It feels wrong to call him a creature,”_ he settled on after a moment, still fidgeting as he tried to figure out exactly what he was trying to tell the other. _“It makes him sound like an animal. He is more like us.”_

“I hate to break it to you, but I don’t know too many people who look the way you’ve described it either-” 

Steve gave him a frown in response. 

“ _Him_ either. It is a him, right?” he asked. 

_“That’s the impression he gives me,”_ Steve responded, giving a nod where the words didn’t quite work to convey gender. While Steve couldn’t be entirely certain, there was a small part of him that felt like that was the right answer, at least for now. 

“So if we’re not going to call him a ‘creature’, then what are we going to call him?” Tony asked. “We can’t just go around vaguely beating around the bush, and something tells me I risk your fists if I use any of the other immediately available options.” 

Steve scowled in response, earning a defensive gesture from Tony in response. Then, Tony clapped his hands together, eyes glittering as some idea took root in his head. 

“He needs a name.” 

Steve quirked an eyebrow, giving him a questioning look. 

“Instead of arguing the semantics of _what_ he is, we can just give him a name. Something that allows us to talk about him without people turning their heads our direction. Okay, okay. _My_ direction,” Tony offered, responding to the look Steve gave him at the mention of ‘speaking’. “I, for one, think it’s a brilliant idea. We can even come up with one of those abbreviated sign ones so you’re not having to spell it out all the time.” 

This earned a small smile from Steve. It was in these moments that Steve was reminded how much effort Tony had put into fostering this friendship between them. He still hadn’t yet been able to convey to Tony or Sam how much their efforts to learn sign language meant when even the people who’d raised him in the orphanage hadn’t been willing to put the work in. Even though Tony often relied on Steve’s ability to read his lips, he still _knew_ the rules that many others weren’t as aware of. 

There was no small part of Steve that was happy Tony was _also_ accepting his desire to talk about the inhabitant of lab F-1. Sam might have listened more if they spent more time outside of work together, but within the walls of Hydra there were too many prying ears and eyes who wouldn’t take kindly to the help discussing what went on there. Plus, he was fairly certain that Sam didn’t share his fascination-- he preferred to get in, get the job done, and move on to the next thing without paying closer attention to what was going on in each lab. Neither Steve nor Sam could afford to lose the job, however horrible it might have been, and Sam had chosen to distance himself from the horrors instead of getting caught up in them. This time, however, it meant he wasn’t willing to engage in the fascination, all too aware of where that usually led. 

“What about Neptune?” Tony offered, breaking through his line of thought and bringing him back to the question of naming the amphibian-man. 

_“Because that’s the most normal name you could think of?”_ Steve signed him back in response, giving him a disapproving look. Even if the name might have been a fitting descriptor with his otherworldly intelligence and affinity for the ocean. Tony gave him a shrug in response. 

“ _James?”_ Steve signed back after a moment. It was a normal human name-- common enough that people wouldn’t even stop to think if they knew who they were talking about. If Steve was entirely honest, he was rather fond of the name. 

“James?” Tony asked, tone immediately laced with his own sense of distaste. “You befriend a.. A being that’s like none you’ve ever seen before and you go for one of the most common, run-of-the-mill names out there?”

 _“Then what do you suggest?”_ Steve responded with a huff. Of course, Tony was going to make this more complicated. 

Tony took a moment, stroking his beard while he made a show of trying to figure out an acceptable name. His eyes wandered about the room, lighting over objects and books as he hummed. 

“Aha!” he cried as his eyes fell on the television, hands clapping together so loudly they startled Steve. “It’s perfect.” 

Steve gave him a questioning look in response, already dreading in some part the words that were going to come from Tony’s mouth. 

“Buck,” Tony responded, gesturing to the television program once more. Steve only vaguely recognized the program as one Tony commonly talked through when it showed up on television. Something about some astronaut who ended up in the future. “I’d suggest Anthony or William, but one of those is definitely taken and it’s not nearly as good a reference if you don’t go right for it. It goes together- Buck Rogers, eh?” Tony’s look was expectant, clearly pleased with the genius he had presented while he waited for Steve’s opinion. 

Steve rolled his eyes, fixing Tony with an unamused look in return. 

“All I’m saying is that if we’re going to name him, we might as well have a little fun with it,” Tony responded. “What about Bucky? Makes him seem a little more cuddly and friendly.” At this point, Tony snatched up one of the sketches Steve had been working on, holding it to face Steve as if giving him an opportunity to test it while looking at a rendition.

Steve personally thought the name sounded ridiculous, more attention drawing than dispelling. All the same, as he looked at the sketched image (far too incomplete at capturing his likeness) the name seemed to attach itself more with each passing moment. Huffing a sigh, Steve fixed Tony with a stern look. 

_“Fine. Bucky it is,”_ he signed, conceding. 

Steve went to work the following day holding the name dear in his heart. It was an unspoken secret that motivated him to double-up his steps as he made his way to the time clock to check in for his shift. He found himself free of his usual morning’s disgruntlement, already looking forward to sharing the fruits of his and Tony’s conversation with Bucky that day. 

“Well someone’s looking bright eyed and bushy tailed this morning,” Sam offered as he ushered Steve in front of him in the line to clock in. “Did you change your coffee? Because whatever’s in it, I want in.” 

Steve rolled his eyes, shaking his head though even that gesture seemed half-hearted in his inability to be as irritated as he might usually have been. 

“Whatever, man,” Sam responded, chuckling. “We’ll see if you’re still feeling that way by the end of the day. Hydra labs isn’t exactly the sunniest place.” 

While Sam’s words were true and the earlier part of his shift was as dull and horrible as any day as a member of Hydra’s janitorial staff, Steve found himself gearing up as his lunch break drew nearer. He’d slipped his sketchbook into his cart, an unfinished drawing of Bucky on one of its first pages. He was playing with fire, but he couldn’t wait to bring it into the lab and maybe find the finishing touch to it. 

Bucky was waiting for him when he arrived at the lab. It was blessedly empty, Steve’s luck at reading the schedules holding out another day. He was semi-submerged in the shallow end of the pool, giving his gurgling creel as a greeting when Steve wheeled his cart into F-1. Steve smiled, beaming with a warmth he reserved almost entirely for Bucky these days. 

_“Egg?”_ Bucky signed, the movements more fluid than they had been when he’d first picked up the sign. Steve offered a soundless chuckle before he pulled the brown paper bag out. With the bag and his sketchbook in hand, Steve slipped over to the side of the pool. He set the sketchbook down on the floor before he opened the bag, setting it on the counter so Bucky could rifle through its contents. 

Bucky paused after making quick work of two eggs, looking over to where Steve had picked up his sketchbook and was flipping through it. He made a curious warble in response, aiming to gain Steve’s attention before he gestured towards it. 

_“What’s that?”_ he signed, showing once more how adept he was at sign language. Steve ducked his head in embarrassment, gripping the sketchbook to his chest. He’d shown a few of the sketches to Tony to try and prove a point, but none of them had been nearly as complete as this one was. It seemed so much more personal to show them to Bucky, who had been the subject of all of his recent artwork. 

_“Show me?”_ Bucky entreated again in sign, steel colored eyes focusing on Steve’s over the top of his sketchbook until Steve melted a little. 

_“Okay,”_ Steve signed, conceding. _“I have… something to ask you first._ ” 

Bucky cocked his head to the side, his expression distinctly curious but open. There was a lack of wariness there that Steve admired about him. 

“ _Tony and I were talking. I wanted to give you a name. Like Steve. Is that okay?”_ He’d been so excited about the prospect, but faced with sharing it with Bucky (who he already had shifted to calling by that name so easily) found him nervous and uncertain. Bucky might already have had a name, a name he would be replacing. Maybe he should have asked him first. 

“ _Yes. Names are good,”_ he signed. _“What name?”_

_“Bucky?”_ he signed each character of the name out slowly, watching Bucky for any signs of discomfort or disgust with the name. Bucky watched him, entranced by the motions before he gave a croon that sounded decidedly like affirmation. 

“ _Yes. You may call me that. Bucky,”_ he offered, testing the name out with his own hand. Steve once again marveled out how smoothly he managed to sign despite the fact that he had seemed only just to start learning it. Compared to Sam and Tony, who had moved along at their own much slower paces, Bucky had taken to it as if he’d spoken it as long as Steve had. _“Bucky is a good name. Thank you, Steve.”_

Steve smiled, heart fluttering warmly at how pleased Bucky seemed to be with the name. For all that he still kept his sentences short and to the point, there was something beyond even those that Steve could feel palpably in the air. Honored, at Steve thinking of naming him. Fondness over Steve, a fondness Steve found mirrored in his own feelings. 

When had those feelings gotten so deep? 

_“Now will you show me?”_ he signed, indicating the sketchbook once more. 

Steve’s cheeks filled with some color, but he passed the sketchbook over to Bucky. The other took the sketchbook gingerly in his hands, careful not to puncture the paper with the sharp ends of his claws as he looked over the piece Steve had left it open to. He regarded it carefully for a few moments, making small noises as he twisted his head from side to side and regarded it. Steve could only watch him, entranced by the care Bucky seemed to take of the artwork and the interest he held in it. 

The moment seemed to drag on before Bucky handed him back the book carefully. He swiped his hand over his face in a sign Steve hadn’t expected. _Beautiful_. Bucky thought the piece was beautiful? 

_“Not as beautiful as you are,”_ Steve signed in response, though his cheeks flared a brighter red when he realized just what he had said. Bucky seemed confused for a moment, before he reached out and tapped Steve carefully on the chest with one finger. 

_“Beautiful,”_ he signed again. _“The most beautiful.”_

Had Steve been more certain of how Bucky would react and less of a flailing mess over the compliment, he might have surged forward to press his lips to Bucky’s. He wasn’t even sure what it would feel like, but he knew he wanted to. There was nothing more he wanted to do than know what it was like to kiss Bucky and feel the press of him in return. Bucky seemed to pick up on this, swiping a hand with a remarkable amount of gentleness over the side of Steve’s face, along his jawline. 

Steve settled for taking Bucky’s hand in his, kissing the palm gently and wrinkling his nose in something between surprise and delight at the saltiness of the skin there. He wasn’t ready to say it yet, but he hoped the gesture was filled with the rapidly blooming love he felt for Bucky. 

He thought he was _beautiful_. 


	5. Chapter 5

The tension in the lab was palpable as soon as the door slid open. Steve had grown so accustomed to trilled greetings from the pool or the eager tapping of claws against the glass front of the tank that the silence of the room only served to set him further on edge. It was dark and the lab was empty, but something was _wrong_. 

It only took a moment for his eyes to settle on the huddled mass of the creature in the center of the room. The chains that usually circled his neck and tethered him to the wall of the pool had been moved, instead chaining him to a heavy ring that had been installed in the floor grate. Second and third chains had been added to manacles around his hands, keeping him restrained so that his arms could barely move. He was slumped there, his breathing coming far too fast and labored. 

Steve crossed the room before he’d given it conscious thought, and was on his knees in front of him before he’d even had a chance to scope the room to see if there were others present. His presence earned a small, gurgling croon from his counterpart though it rapidly warped into a hiss of pain as Steve’s hands smoothed over his chest in the best gesture of comfort he could offer. The flesh there, usually so cool and smooth, instead felt sticky and warm- Steve’s hands came away dark. 

Their eyes met though Steve could see that the other’s were barely focusing, unable to bring more than a momentary flicker of the far more human appearance they usually took around Steve. 

_“Are you-?”_ The signs failed him, hands far too shaky and mind racing far too quickly with the panic that rose from seeing him like this. 

The creature let out another hiss- a warning. Steve barely had time to register the sound of footsteps approaching the lab door. 

“I’ve got some business to attend to in here,” Rumlow’s voice filtered with all the built up confidence and cockiness of someone taking strides with the power they’d been given. “Go get Pierce, alright? Bring him down here.” The words were followed by the tell tale blips of the keypad.

Steve very nearly turned to face the doorway. What good was bringing treats and trinkets if he didn’t stand up for him in situations such as this? Arms spreading like a shield as he rose despite the dread of what might become of both of them, he was stopped abruptly by the look of panic in the creature’s eyes. 

Not panic for himself, but panic for _Steve_. A feeling that radiated so powerfully between them that Steve’s own gut twisted with it. The message was conveyed wordlessly, not even the low croon from the creature needed to pass along exactly what he wanted for Steve. He would weather this pain, but Steve needed to seek the protection that he could not offer him. 

Steve had to go. _Now_. Before Rumlow knew he was here. 

He only just managed to duck behind one of the heavy wall supports as the metal doors slid open, pulling himself in tightly behind it with the hopes that Rumlow wouldn’t be paying that much attention. 

“Thought I was gone for the day?” Rumlow’s voice sent a chill through Steve, each heavy footfall of his boots on the concrete lab floor sending a further stab of dread through him. “Oh no, we were just getting started.” There was a crackling noise in the air, and Steve could picture Rumlow gripping the cattle prod once more. The noise was followed moments later by a screeching, high-pitched cry of pain that nearly pulled tears into Steve’s eyes. 

“Want some more of that?” Rumlow’s smug, cocky confidence grated against Steve’s every nerve, the aggression underlying it filling Steve with a fear for Bucky’s life and a desire to fight for it. He pulled in closer to himself instead, trying to honor the fish creature’s wishes even as he willed some scientist or someone to intrude. “There’s plenty more where that came from. I still haven’t paid you back for my face.” 

Another crackle of electricity was followed with another shriek of pain. 

“Bet you’d like to take another swipe, wouldn’t you?” Rumlow asked. “Maybe take another nip at these fingers here, huh?” 

Steve stuffed his hand over his mouth, an added precaution even as he knew no sound would come. Even the near soundless noise of his breathing might set Rumlow off, and that alone might be enough to see him end the creature’s life. 

Steve peeked around the corner of the wall to find Rumlow crouched closer to Bucky. The creature’s eyes were feral, every muscle in his being tensed. The gills at the sides of his throat were flared, a gesture of protective aggression that Steve hadn’t seen directed at him since his first day bringing him eggs. Rumlow, as smug as ever about his position over the creature, had his bandaged hand extended as if offering him some kind of treat. He extended the healthy, undamaged fingers Bucky’s way. 

When Bucky snapped his teeth towards them, Rumlow pulled them back quickly and jammed the cattle prod against one of the bloody gashes in his side. The shriek pierced to Steve’s very core, and he found himself taking a step, preparing himself to come out of hiding. Though Bucky didn’t look his direction, however, Steve could feel something almost like a mental hand on his shoulder. Bucky was asking, no, _entreating_ him to stay put even through the haze of pain Steve swore he could almost feel himself. 

“That should teach you…” Rumlow growled, though this time was at least not followed with the hum of the cattle prod. Bucky shifted, chains rattling as he slumped further to the floor. The other gave a weak, pained creel in response and it took all of Steve’s power to keep himself out of Rumlow’s line of sight. 

“We’ve got guests coming,” Rumlow said. “They’re real excited to see you. And I told ‘em you were going to be on your best behavior. So none of that snapping, got it? Or I’ll do a lot more than shove this cattle prod at you.”

The threat caused Steve’s blood to boil anew, but almost as soon as the rage settled in it was abruptly cooled by the sound of the lab doors sliding open once again. The sounds of multiple footsteps signalled the arrival of the guests Rumlow had been talking about. Steve cursed every one of them, peeking around the pillar once again to see just who had come. 

He wasn’t expecting someone to be glancing back. Terror filled him as he met the spectacled gaze of one of the scientists who’d been a constant presence during the lab’s occupied hours. Dr… Banner? Steve hadn’t paid much attention to their names, far too concerned with what they were doing to Bucky to care. The other mouthed something to him. 

_“Stay quiet.”_

Stay quiet? Terror melted into confusion as he realized the other didn’t plan to sell him out. Dr. Banner made another slight gesture against his side, a clear indication that he should slide himself further behind the pillar. With that, Dr. Banner’s focus seemed to turn sharply towards the creature in front of him. 

“This is the creature you told me about?” An unfamiliar voice offered up in introduction. “He’s bigger than I thought he’d be. Not much to look at either.” 

“He’s bleeding,” Dr. Banner broke in, voice only containing a fraction of the concern and irritation Steve felt. “What did you do to him?” 

“I showed it who’s boss, Banner,” Rumlow responded. “It’s a wild creature. Not some baby for you to coddle. The sooner it learns its place, the better.” 

“This _creature_ could teach us more than any other specimen in this lab,” the scientist shot back. 

“Yes, what can it teach us?” The other voice offered, still unidentified. Steve wasn’t even certain he’d heard the man’s voice around the lab at all. 

“Well it ain’t no god, that’s for sure,” Rumlow broke in. “The locals may’ve treated it like one, but I don’t see it. It’s just some fish faced animal from the jungle. You’d think they had enough of those down there to realize it.” 

Bucky wasn’t just some animal, Steve wanted to snap back. He wasn’t just some _creature_ , either. He was like nothing Steve had ever seen before and it hardly surprised him that Rumlow couldn’t recognize that. If Steve had had to pick a monster between the two of them, he knew it would not be Bucky he was looking at. 

“The creature is hardly-” 

“So it is capable of breathing both in the water and on land,” Pierce asked, flipping through the pages of some packet he must have been handed. “Have you been able to figure out how it achieves this?” 

“The creature can only do so for limited amounts of time. It’s respiratory system is not designed to handle prolonged time outside-” 

“What Banner really means is that we don’t understand exactly what’s going on with fish-face here,” Rumlow offered, cutting the scientist off. “He’s got some kind of thick plating around his insides making it really hard for us to get any scans.” 

“Oh?” Pierce asked, and even the tone in that one word caused Steve’s stomach to sink further. “So all of this information is based on conjecture?” 

“Research and observation,” Dr. Banner offered, irritation heavy in his voice. “I’ve been studying this creature since it was brought here. I believe that, over time, we can learn a great deal through continued study and observation.” 

“Yeah, yeah, Doc’s got a point,” Rumlow responded, effectively cutting in again. “But the best thing about having this creature now is that we’re steps ahead of everybody else. If we sit around here on our asses, Director Pierce, we’re going to lose that advantage. We’re giving other people a chance to catch up while we let Banner and his team scribble their notes on paper.” 

“And what would your suggestion be?” 

“I think we need to cut it open and see how it works,” Rumlow responded. “We can coddle it all Banner wants, but that’s not going to get us through those thick plates in its chest. Cutting it open will.” 

“If you kill it, we’ll only get whatever we manage to get from the vivisection and nothing more. You entirely cut off the realm of possibility, the things we could learn-” 

“That’s enough, Dr. Banner,” Pierce intoned, the calm in his voice still oddly menacing. “I know you’ve spent a great deal of time on this creature, but I make the decisions here. I’ll listen to input, of course, but don’t forget your place.” 

Even though Steve didn’t know Dr. Banner well, he felt himself seething at the way Pierce spoke to him. The man knew more than anyone else here (save, perhaps, for himself) about Bucky. The man would do to listen to him over Rumlow, who had done nothing but harm and harass him. His own protectiveness of Dr. Banner, however, stemmed from the other’s efforts to care for Bucky. If Pierce didn’t listen to him, then Rumlow would get his way and Bucky would be cut apart- 

Steve couldn’t bear the thought of that. 

“Sir, with all due respect, if we don’t get him back in the tank now, that may not be a decision we get to make,” Dr. Banner responded, voice tight with his own fury. Steve didn’t need to glance out from his hiding place again to know that what the scientist said was the truth. Bucky’s breathing was labored, the gasps sounding more painful than life-giving. These were punctuated by creels of pain, and Steve didn’t even want to think about how bad the injuries were if Bucky wasn’t even able to hide them in front of Rumlow and Pierce. 

“Fine, fine,” Pierce responded dismissively. “Put that creature back in it’s tank. If you’d like to continue this discussion, I’ll be in my office.” 

The words were followed by commotion on the other side of the pillar. More creels from Bucky were followed by the sounds of chains clanking to the lab floor. A few moments later, there was a splash as he imagined Bucky was being returned to the pressurized tube they sometimes kept him in. He could hear the chatter of Dr. Banner and a few of the scientists who worked under him, but Steve couldn’t help but strain for Pierce and Rumlow, terrified they might discover his hiding place. 

The relief as he heard two sets of footsteps start towards the door of the lab, however, was short-lived. 

“So, you really think vivisecting it is the best option?” Pierce asked Rumlow, earning a satisfied chuckle from the other, words lost in the whoosh of the door. 

Pierce had already made up his mind. It was clear in the way that he spoke with Rumlow as they left. There would be no convincing him now. Bucky would be put to death at the hands of that cruel bastard… 

By the time Steve was able to leave the lab unnoticed, he was distraught but resolved. He wouldn’t stand by and let these men destroy Bucky. He _couldn’t_. The ache the idea produced in his chest only drove that point in. As the doors slide open, he knew he’d need to find some way to get Bucky out of here before they had a chance. 

“Seriously, Steve?” Sam’s voice rang out, the man standing beside Steve’s abandoned cleaning cart with his arms crossed over his chest. “You going to tell me what you were doing in there? Because I know you’re not scheduled to clean in there today.” 

_“It’s noth-”_

“Don’t you tell me it’s nothing, Steve,” Sam responded, cutting Steve off before he could even finish the sign. His hands dropped helplessly to his sides, though the burn in his cheeks was more from irritation than it was shame. “Will it still be nothing when someone catches you and you get fired? I know you’ve been up to something, and I’ve been trying to let you do your thing. I figured you’d come to me when it became important enough. But this? Don’t think I didn’t just watch those big wigs walk out right before you, Steve.” 

Steve knew that Sam was right. At least, he was right that if Pierce or Rumlow found out that he had been sneaking around in the lab he’d be fired. He also knew that Sam didn’t understand what was at stake in this, the pressing doom that Steve couldn’t keep from circling back to. He briefly considered telling Sam, but he wasn’t entirely sure the other would understand just why he was willing to risk his life for this experiment over any of the others. 

Briefly, he considered the notion that he _could_ walk away from all of this. Nothing had happened yet. The thought lasted only a fleeting second before he was shaking it off, mentally kicking himself for even entertaining the idea. If Steve gave up on Bucky, no one would help him. Dr. Banner was clearly subject to Pierce and his minions, after all. Bucky would be cut up into pieces, poked and prodded— 

“What? You’ve got nothing to say?” Sam asked, irritation ready in the entirety of his posture. “I’ve been looking after your ass for the last twelve years, and now you’ve got nothing to say to me?” 

The words stung, but they fell with a truth that Steve hadn’t given much thought since Bucky had moved into F-1. In all his sneaking around and attempting secrecy from the higher ups, he’d also closed himself off from Sam. In the process of keeping himself and Bucky safe, he’d alienated one of the few friends he’d managed to make since he’d left the orphanage at eighteen and started this job.

“So that’s how it’s going to be?” Sam asked when the silence lingered on. Steve was still struggling with what to say to him. Did he regret his connection with Bucky? Not in the slightest. Was he sorry that it had alienated Sam in the process? He was, but he wasn’t certain he’d have done anything differently. Those conflicting feelings made it difficult for him to piece together an explanation, but he knew he needed one or Sam would walk away. If he let him leave, there might be no chance of salvaging their relationship. 

_“I was trying to keep you from getting in trouble,”_ Steve signed in response. _“If I got fired, I didn’t want them to fire you.”_

“Most people who look for you around this place usually end up looking for me,” Sam responded, shaking his head and scoffing. “Did you really think they’d think I had nothing to do with whatever it is you’ve got going on here?” Sam’s look hadn’t softened, the continued frustration bordering on anger sat awkwardly with Steve. Sam had expressed frustration before, but never like this when directed at him. It didn’t help he couldn’t bring himself to feel entirely sorry about keeping this a secret. Sam wouldn’t have supported his decision to visit Bucky like he’d been doing, and he definitely wouldn’t have approved of Steve’s infatuation with him. 

_“Sam-”_

“Look, I don’t know what’s going on with you,” Sam offered, staying him off. “But I want you to take a good hard look at what you’re doing. It might not be a bad idea to pull out now before anyone knows. Whatever’s going on in there? It’s not the kind of trouble you want to bring on yourself, Steve.” 

_“You don’t know that,”_ Steve signed back, frowning as irritation flickered. Sam’s advice, even well meaning, sent irritation flickering through him. 

Sam shook his head, heaving a heavy sigh. 

“Should’ve known I couldn’t get through to you,” he responded. “I’ve got to get to the rest of my assignments for the night. Guess I’ll see you at the end of shift or something.” Sam sounded defeated, frustrated but also hurt. Steve bit his lip, watching helplessly when Sam turned his back to him before he could sign anything in return. 

He promised himself he’d have something to say to Sam by the time he saw him in the lockers at the end of their shift.

That promise was quickly forgotten not fifteen minutes later when Steve went to empty the trash cans in the lab’s main command center. Glancing up at the glass-fronted office Rumlow had claimed when he came to oversee Bucky’s containment, he could now see Pierce, Rumlow, and Dr. Banner talking animatedly around the desk. His heart sank— the likelihood they were continuing the conversation that had started in the lab was far too high for his liking. 

His heart sank further when Dr. Banner pitched his clipboard across the office, nearly hitting Rumlow squarely in the chest with it, before storming out of the office. As Steve watched him pass, Dr. Banner gave him one look of concern before ducking his head low. It was all the confirmation Steve needed that he hadn’t been able to convince the others of Bucky’s necessity. 

There was not a chance in hell Steve was going to let Bucky die without a fight.

-*-

“Wait- Slow down for a second, would you?” Tony’s frustration rang in his voice and the hand he’d put up as if it was staying back Steve’s tirade. “Can we start from the beginning, actually? Because I think you might have just asked me to take part in something highly illegal.” 

Steve threw his hands into the air for a moment, scowling darkly at Tony. Steve had been forced to take the bus home that morning because of some meeting Tony had, and he’d only just caught the other as he was attempting to slip into his apartment. Normally, Steve would have left him to sulk through another failed meeting, but today the devastation coursed too heavily through him for that. 

_“They’re going to kill him. We need to do something,”_ Steve signed at him, making each sign deliberate and fierce in his frustration. 

“We don’t need to do anything,” Tony responded, voice a hiss as Steve followed him into his apartment. “He’s an experiment, Steve! Something they own. They’ll kill us both for trying to interfere. I know you’re fond of him, but you had to know this day was coming, Steve.”

Steve signed angrily at him, words almost mushing together with the weight of his frustration. Tony clearly didn’t understand what Bucky meant to him. 

“More than fond?” Tony asked. “You should be more than fond of your own life.” 

Steve signed again, feeling tears prick the corner of his eyes as he fought to use his hands for words instead of strangling Tony like part of him wanted to. 

“We’re all he has?” Tony repeated, running a hand through his hair with his own frustration. “Do you hear yourself? You want us to risk our lives for some- we hardly _know_ him. I don’t! You spend a few weeks with him inside some lab and you’re ready to go up against the government and military to attempt breaking him out?”

Steve clenched his teeth, signing furiously. 

“You-” Steve pushed him, entreating with his signs that Tony repeat aloud exactly what he was saying. “Okay, okay. I’ll repeat.” 

Tony focused on him, indicating for him to continue. 

“‘He understands me. All my life everyone has seen me for what I lack, but he doesn’t. He doesn’t care that I can’t speak. He doesn’t care that everyone else thinks there’s part of me that’s missing. When he looks at me, he doesn’t see what I lack. When he looks at me… he sees something whole and beautiful.’ Okay, Steve, but that might be animal-” 

Steve hit his arm with a scowl, effectively silencing the statement before he continued to sign slowly and deliberately. 

“‘He is always happy to see me. He loves me, and I can’t turn my back on him now. I have the option to save him, and I have to do it. We have to do it. I need your help. I can’t let him go… Never see him again. We’ve been led together. I need to do this for him.’” 

Steve focused his gaze intently on Tony in response, trying to further impress his seriousness as if he could transfer it somehow from his being to Tony’s. Tony stood silent for a moment, pursing his lips and working through the implications in his own mind. It was agonizing, watching the wheels turning without knowing just what conclusion they were coming towards. 

“You really like this guy?” Tony asked after a moment. “Even if it’s some freaky monster on human like a creature flick?” 

Steve gave him a flat look at that. Tony looked away, blowing out a large breath as he seemed to be warring with himself. 

“What the hell,” Tony responded. “Fine. I’ll help you. I think you’re insane, and we’re both going to end up in prison or dead, but I just so happen to have nothing to lose so… Fine, okay. I’ll help you.” 

Steve gave him a sad smile to mirror the one on Tony’s face. 

“Besides, you’re helpless without me. We stand far better odds with me helping you,” Tony offered, letting the sadness fade from his look as he began to tackle the problem mentally. “With me on board, we might actually be able to swing this.” 

For all Tony’s now casual response to the problem, Steve’s heart was swelling. They’d be able to do this. He had to believe they were going to get Bucky free because the other options were unthinkable. With that in mind, they dove into planning the escape in earnest. 


	6. Chapter 6

Steve took a deep breath as he prepared to enter F-1 once more. Rumlow had been in his office with Sitwell and Dr. Banner when he’d gone through the control center to empty the waste baskets, their conversation heated and about the creature. It gave Steve a precious window of time he hadn’t expected, some extra time to make sure that the plan got set into motion and went off without a hitch. By the same token, it had only helped to further affirm just how badly they needed to get Bucky out tonight. If they didn’t, there likely wouldn’t be another opportunity to do so before they cut him up and killed him in the name of research. 

This time he came without the safety of his cleaning cart out by the door. It would have been too suspicious, sitting there when he was supposed to be on his way to clocking out. He knew Sam would likely notice his absence, but he hoped that he’d have Bucky in Tony’s van-turned-laundry-car and on his way out before he had to deal with that. Sam hadn’t seemed to notice anything off when he barely touched the camera to “move” it back into position during the smoke break that evening. He’d even been lucky to have enough time working solo jobs that evening to set up the laundry cart with damp towels in the side maintenance tunnel of the lab, a space he’d rarely used but forced himself to become accustomed to over the weeks leading up to their plan. 

The lab was chillingly empty as the door slid open. Much of the instrumentation that had occupied the space was gone, cleared out as the readings they gathered became no longer necessary. All that was really left was the pool and the large tank that connected to it, the rest moving on to work with whatever other experiments Hydra might use them for. It broke Steve’s heart to know how close they had come to killing Bucky already, but that hurt turned quickly into a justified anger that fueled his determination to make this plan work. 

Steve’s footsteps echoed as he tread cautiously across the lab floor, only to be met with a hiss as Bucky emerged from the water. Gills flared, teeth bared, and clawed hands at the ready, Bucky was the picture of the aggressive creature who had caused the extensive damage to Rumlow’s face. It also set a picture for just how much they had harmed him, and perhaps just how hopeless the amphibious man seemed to see his situation. He held the aggressive stance as Steve took a few steps towards him, closing the gap even though his heart sank at the state Bucky was in. 

_“I’m here to help you,”_ Steve signed, hands moving emphatically to stress his point. _“I have a friend coming. We’ll help, Bucky.”_ But they couldn’t help him if Bucky wouldn’t let him approach without attacking. 

Bucky’s demeanor shifted, the tension slowly sinking from his form as his gills once more lay flat. It took several heart-stopping seconds for his eyes to flicker from dark black circles to the grey-blue Steve had come to associate uniquely with the person he loved. Though his stance became less hostile, Bucky remained in the back half of the pool, seeming unwilling to come any further forward. 

_“We’ll get you out before they can hurt you,”_ Steve signed, hoping more than ever that the words he was trying to convey were getting across. He needed Bucky to understand him and trust him. 

As he reached the edge of the pool and Bucky still hadn’t come further forward, Steve thought of one last plan. Shedding his socks and shoes, he rolled his pants up to his knees before hoisting himself over the lip of the pool to stand in the shallow water at the edge. He placed himself firmly, locking eyes with Bucky as he projected with every piece of his being the message of offering help. 

_“Please, Bucky,”_ he signed, before holding out his hand to him and resolving to wait. 

It took several agonizingly long minutes, Steve’s eyes occasionally flickering to the door to check for signs of another, before Bucky moved from the back half of the pool. His progress was slow, and then quicker as he came to meet Steve in the shallow end of the pool. Steve’s heart swelled, and as soon as Bucky seemed to be in range he closed the gap between them, letting Bucky’s arms close around him to draw him close. 

He could have stayed there longer, pressed against Bucky’s chest, listening to the unique thrum of his heart and the cadence of his lungs, but urgency pressed him onwards. As tempting as it was to stay cradled there, letting Bucky stroke his back with a tenderness so far removed from the danger his hands could pose, there would be time for that later when they got Bucky free. Steve pulled away, slipping out of the pool to pull his laundry cart from its hiding place and bring it to the edge. 

All that was left was the collar around his neck, a challenge Steve hadn’t exactly figured out how he was facing. He tugged at it for a moment before glancing around the room in hopes of finding where they might have placed the keys. 

“Did you move the security camera?” A voice questioned from the shadows of the lab, the very corner Steve had hidden in when he’d first heard news of them planning to dissect Bucky. Bucky ducked behind him, curling against his back in a way that had Steve placing his much smaller frame between him and whoever it was that was in the lab. 

Steve hadn’t expected Dr. Banner to emerge from the shadows, a key ring extended out to him like a peace offering. 

“You’re going to take him out through the tunnels, aren’t you?” he asked, closing the distance between them to offer Steve the keys more pressingly. “That’s clever. But you might want to hurry if you’re going to get him out of here before Rumlow figures out.” 

Steve reached forward for the keys, taking them warily as if Dr. Banner might snatch them back from him at any moment. Instead, the scientist gave him a smile that was friendly but carried a level of some secret anger behind it that Steve wasn’t entirely certain what to do with. 

“I don’t know who you work for,” Dr. Banner continued as Steve unlocked the metal collar from around Bucky’s neck. “But given that SHIELD is being less than helpful, I hope you’re able to set him free.” 

Steve gave Dr. Banner a questioning look in response, still not entirely certain why he was helping them. Part of him was waiting, ready for Rumlow to step out as well and condemn them both to death. 

“He’ll need the water at five to eight percent salinity. I’ve included tablets in your cart and an instrument to help you read that. He must have a high protein diet,” Dr. Banner offered like it was an explanation. “My recommendation is that you get him to the sea as quickly as possible and set him free. I don’t know how long these will act as a substitute before they become ineffective.” 

Of course Dr. Banner’s recommendation was to let him go immediately. It made the most sense, even if the idea felt more like a kick to the gut than a relief. Of course he wanted Bucky to be happy, but the notion of losing him so soon after the boundaries between them were destroyed… 

“Go!” Dr. Banner insisted. “I’ll meet you at the loading dock in five minutes to help you leave. You don’t want to hang around here any longer. The lights will go out, so be prepared for that.” With that, Dr. Banner was disappearing out the doors again, acting every bit the part of a normal scientist. Steve didn’t know what he had planned, but he hoped whatever it was was in their favor. He seemed genuine in his willingness to help, and with Bucky now free it was easier to load him into the cart of damp towels. Hidden in the bottom was a container with the very tablets Dr. Banner had been talking about. 

Steve was halfway down the hallway to the loading dock when the lights went out. All of a sudden they were pitched into the world of darkness, the change earning a creel from Bucky hidden under the towels. The only thing working in their favor was that they were on a straight shot to the loading bay. Steve pushed the cart faster, sending a silent thank you to Dr. Banner as he hoped this distraction would buy him and Tony just a little more time to get out of here undetected and unidentified. 

He also wasn’t expecting Sam to be standing at the loading dock when he pushed through the door with the cart. 

“Are you out of your goddamn mind?!” Sam asked. “Whatever you’re doing, Steve…” Sam’s face was stern, concerned for him and ready to stand firm where he was. He put his hands on one end of the laundry cart. 

Steve glared at him, fingers flexing on the half of the cart he was holding. He prepared himself to push, ready to go up against Sam if he needed to. 

“Steve don’t do this,” Sam pleaded. “I don’t know what you’ve got yourself mixed up into, but think about yourself.” 

It was at that moment that Bucky chose to poke his head out of the towels, a hissing growl emanating from his throat at the threat Sam posed. Sam immediately let go of the cart, taking a few steps back. 

“What the hell are you-” Sam’s exclamation, disbelieving and almost under his breath, faded out as Steve put a hand on Bucky’s shoulder, entreating him to leave Sam alone. Once Bucky had calmed, looking at the other curiously now, Steve’s gaze flickered back up to Sam. 

“You’re really doing this?” he asked, though Steve could hear the resignation in his voice even there. With a heavy sigh, Sam grabbed his end of the cart again. ‘Well, let’s get the both of you out of here before they realize it’s you. And Lord help us all they don’t know who was involved…” 

Sam and Steve made it to the loading dock just as Tony drove the van up. Steve was not expecting to see Dr. Banner pop out of the passenger side of the car, looking harried but far more calm about this than he’d expected the scientist would be. 

“Do you know this guy?” Tony asked as he peeked out the driver’s window. “He had a _needle_ , Steven. Dropped a guard without even flinching. You didn’t tell me we had friends on the inside.” Tony’s gaze flickered back to Dr. Banner, earning an eye roll from him as Dr. Banner and Sam threw the back doors of the van open. 

“We’ve only got a few more minutes,” Dr. Banner offered as he tossed damp rags and the containers he’d stowed into the van. “Rumlow and Sitwell are probably already on their way down. Remember what I told you. You _must_ get him into a larger body of water, sooner rather than later.” 

Steve didn’t answer that, grateful that he had the excuse of helping hoist Bucky from the cart into the back of the van. They set him in carefully before Steve looked back at Dr. Banner. 

“Good luck, Steve. If there’s anything you need, I’ve tucked my phone number in the container,” Dr. Banner offered. 

“Wait, he’s not coming with us? You sure you don’t want to come with us?” Tony chimed in. 

“I’ll keep them occupied here,” Dr. Banner responded. 

“And I’ll take this back so no one’s the wiser,” Sam offered. “But you owe me, Steve. A lot, for getting me mixed up in all of whatever this is.” 

Steve gave him a grateful smile in return, sharing a quick hug with Sam before the other wheeled the laundry cart off and left them to their business. Dr. Banner offered a quick handshake and a wave to Tony before he ushered Steve into the back of the van with Bucky. Doors slammed shut behind him, he settled in close as Tony hit the gas and propelled them out of the facility. 

They were lucky that they left when they did— by the time Rumlow and Sitwell made it to the loading dock, Rumlow was only able to fire a few glancing shots the van’s way before it was too far out of range. They sped off towards cover, free for the moment to figure out their next plan. 

It seemed like an eternity from the time they left the lab to the moment when they finally pulled into the alley behind the apartment building. Tony had insisted on driving around the city some, burying their tracks and attempting to throw off or lose anyone who might have followed them from the lab. Steve had protested the length of time they spent driving. The damp towels were only doing so much for Bucky and he knew that they needed to get him back into some kind of water as quickly as possible. He had given in, however, when Tony reminded him of just who might be coming after them if they made their tracks too easy to follow. 

By the time they made it back to the apartments, Bucky was shuddering and his breath came in labored spurts. Steve had cradled Bucky against him, running his hands through the rather thick patch of hair in an attempt to soothe. He’d taken to wringing the damp towels out over him, attempting to cool him down and keep him at least damp. The number of towels had been dwindling as they dried out and were used up. 

“Okay, any bright ideas on how to get him up?” Tony asked as he shut the van off. “I don’t think we’ll survive here very long if word gets out we have a fish man at the movie theater.” 

They ended up covering him in a coat that Tony had tucked away in his closet. With the grace of his hair, he looked almost human as he shuffled up the rickety staircase to where Tony and Steve called home. Steve found himself swinging his head side to side as if others might be watching them. Bucky was staggering, his energy clearly flagging as they made their way up the stairs. Steve only hoped they’d be able to get him into the bathtub before Bucky collapsed. 

As soon as they reached Steve’s apartment, Steve pulled himself away from Bucky’s side to get the water running. As soon as there was a layer of water in the tub, he sprinkled a healthy dose of the mixture in the container Dr. Banner had given him. Tony followed him in a moment later, supporting Bucky until he slumped into the bathtub and lay unmoving. 

It was a few tense moments of inactivity, Bucky laying still in the tub, before he sucked in a large breath, gasping as the water filled his lungs. Steve let out his own shaky breath, grateful they seemed to have been able to get him this far safely. 

“So we got him here,” Tony offered, watching as Steve fussed over the water. He pulled out one of the instruments Dr. Banner had given him, attempting to read the water. Tony crouched beside him, swatting him away as he took the measuring device to do his own reading. “What’s the next plan? We can’t keep him forever. They’ll find us here, probably faster than we want to be found.” 

_“The docks. We need to take him there,”_ Steve signed in return. _“He’ll be free.”_ Which was the best he could hope for even if the notion of letting Bucky go was terrible… If he went free, the brightest thing in Steve’s life would leave him. He couldn’t imagine going back to work at Hydra Labs without Bucky there, without those moments stolen in the day to be with him. 

“Shouldn’t we take him now?” he asked. 

Steve gave him a brief scowl before his attention turned back to Bucky. He was making noises now, the soft croons and clicks of coming back to more energy. He reached out with one webbed hand, stroking it across the side of Steve’s face. Steve smiled, reaching to do the same. He allowed his fingers to brush carefully over the gills at Bucky’s neck, tender and fond. 

“You know what? I’m going to go take a nap or something. Don’t. Just.. Be safe, Kids. I guess,” Tony responded, standing back and away from the tub. “Come find me when you’re done fawning over each other like this.” 

Steve hardly paid him any mind as Tony left the apartment, instead focused on checking Bucky over. He seemed to be okay, if cramped, in the tub. It was comically small compared to his pool at the facility, only cementing in that it could only be a temporary housing for him. They’d have to do something… 

_“Okay?”_ Steve signed the question. 

_“Okay,”_ Bucky signed in response. He then moved, beckoning Steve closer. Steve shook his head, but shed his clothing at the request so he could join Bucky in the already comically small space. Bucky crooned, gladly accepting him against his chest, cradling him close. 

_“I love you,”_ Steve signed up to him, feeling he could say it now. There was no doubt of it, this time. Bolstered in his confidence, in the swell of acknowledging those feelings, Steve closed the distance to kiss him. As Bucky’s thumbs stroked over the scars at his neck, he couldn’t even bring himself to mind. Bucky found all of him beautiful, after all, even those things he felt were better left ignored.


	7. Chapter 7

Steve didn’t remember exactly when they’d transitioned from the tub in the bathroom to his bed, but he found himself curled in against Bucky’s chest as the artificial street light filtered in through the window. Bucky seemed to be breathing okay, which meant they must not have been there long. He realized belatedly that he hadn’t set his alarm and that he wasn’t even sure what time it was. That was okay. With Bucky here, Steve had no desire to go to Hydra Labs today. Twelve years and he’d never missed a day of work on a whim— he felt like he deserved it now. 

He settled back in, pressing his ear against Bucky’s chest and the thrum of his heart. As he breathed, Bucky made small croons and burbles, pleased and peaceful. Steve was grateful he could find that here, happy that they had peace here if only for a short time. They’d get him to safety, and then Bucky would have the peace that had been denied him under Rumlow’s thumb. 

Steve had almost drifted back to sleep, ignoring the ache in his bones, when he heard the sound of the phone in the hallway. He all but ignored it when he heard Tony’s footsteps moving down to answer it, only for the silence that followed to be punctuated by banging on his apartment door. 

“Steve! Steve someone named Sam is on the phone and he says it’s urgent,” Tony called. “So whatever you’re doing in there, get decent and get out here.” 

Steve sat up with a start, eyes darting to the clock on his bedside. The night shift at work had already started, which meant Sam was calling him from Hydra. Heart racing, he pulled himself out of bed and fished for a fresh set of clothing to throw on. Bucky sat up on the bed, eyes blown wide as he creeled his own alarm at Steve’s sudden movement. 

_“Stay here,”_ Steve signed to him. _“I’ll be right back. Maybe wait in the tub?”_ He hated to pull away when they’d been enjoying their closeness together, but if Sam was calling him from work, it meant he needed to know something. 

He skittered out into the hallway, grabbing the handset from Tony without so much as a word. Even Tony, who normally would have continued the joke about being decent, seemed aware that now was not the time for humor. Maybe Sam had already filled him in on whatever it was that was going on. He put his ear up to the phone. 

“Steve? Please tap on the phone if you’re there,” Sam offered. They hadn’t talked much on the phone for obvious reasons, but this system had worked out for them. 

Steve tapped his fingers against the receiver in response. 

“Oh thank God,” he responded. “Steve, he’s coming for you. Rumlow was going around the labs interviewing everyone today after what happened. He had Dr. Banner in there all morning and he told me to warn you that Rumlow was intent on coming to find you when you didn’t show up at work today. Rumlow doesn’t have any solid evidence it’s you, but I’m guessing he’s not going to need much when he gets to you if you’re not prepared.” 

Steve gasped. Rumlow was going to come here? If he came here, he would find Bucky. If he came here, Bucky would be dragged back to the lab to be taken apart. His heart began racing, adrenaline pumping through his veins. 

“You need to get him out of there, okay? Take him to the docks now or you may not have an opportunity to do so later. Rumlow hasn’t left yet, but my guess is he’ll leave any minute. I’ll meet you there as soon as Rumlow leaves.” 

Steve was touched by the fact that Sam was willing to leave work early to come to their aid. For all that he had strained their friendship recently, Sam had put it behind him enough to give them warning. 

“I’ve got to go. Get out of there as fast as you can and I’ll see you at the docks. If I can find Dr. Banner, I’ll bring him, too. Get a move on, Steve!” Sam didn’t give him a chance to tap the phone or make any attempt to respond before he was hanging up. He only hoped Sam’s phone call had gone unnoticed. 

“Well? You better go tell your friend. Lover? Whatever he is,” Tony offered when Steve turned his way. “I’ll be waiting in the car because we really don’t want to be here when old scarface shows up, if what I’ve been told is anything to go by.” Tony shooed him towards the door to his apartment, ushering him to get a move on. 

Steve’s heart was racing, but he was also utterly unprepared for the idea of sending Bucky off so soon. He’d only just gotten him free, and they’d only had one night to enjoy the freedom that had been only a dream inside the labs. Steve had been hoping for so much more time to get acquainted with Bucky, to see him free of the fear and pain that had been inflicted by Rumlow and his men. It wasn’t fair that he’d have to say goodbye to him now when there was so much more he wanted to do and know.

Steve swallowed heavily as he entered his apartment, hearing the small splash of movement that signalled Bucky had returned to the tub. Even as he entered the bathroom, he could see the changes in Bucky’s demeanor. While he was out of the lab, the whole color of him had faded from its brilliance into something darker, duller. There was even a slight rasp to his breath, even as the gills along his sides seemed to be taking in the water from the tub. 

Bucky needed more than just the salt Dr. Banner had given him. There was no telling what keeping him here would do to him, even if they both wanted nothing more than to stay together. It was only a small blessing that the goodbyes were being forced, making it at least a little bit easier than if he’d had to make this choice without the looming threat of Rumlow overhead. 

Bucky offered a confused warble his direction, beckoning with a hand for Steve to come closer. Steve tried to force a smile, though he felt grim. 

_“We’re going to take you somewhere,”_ Steve signed, feeling his heart break even as he resolved to do it. _“But we need to go now. Please come with me.”_

Setting Bucky up in the coat once more to slip him out the door was a much easier task when he was supporting his own weight and able to walk. It also helped that the rain outside made it much more feasible for Bucky to be wearing the coat. Steve ushered him out the door, pushing him onwards towards Tony’s van. He was spurred by fear that Rumlow would come stalking up the stairs at any moment, but he was also afraid that if they took too long he might change his mind about doing it. 

They pulled out of the alley just in time to watch a sleek vehicle Steve recognized from Hydra Labs speed by, turning the corner and screeching to a halt outside the front. With that blessed moment, they took off towards the docks. Steve only hoped Sam and Dr. Banner would be there waiting for them. 

The trip to the dock seemed to take both far too much time and not enough. Steve had allowed Bucky to cradle him in the back of the van as Tony drove, sinking back against his chest as he tried to will his sadness away. This was what was best for Bucky— freedom and safety away from Hydra. There was no other way to guarantee him either of those things, especially not when Steve’s best offering to him was an old bathtub. 

He ran his hands over the skin of Bucky’s forearms where they crossed over him, only too aware of how dry they were getting. They needed to get him into the water or he might not survive much longer. 

They pulled up to one of the abandoned docks just a few moments later, Tony shutting off the van and coming around to open up the back doors. He gave them a sympathetic look before gesturing for them to get out. As Steve clambered out, he was relieved to see no sign of Rumlow. Unfortunately, there was also no sign of Sam or Dr. Banner, and while he would have preferred to wait for them he wasn’t sure they’d have the time. Someone might notice them, and there was no telling where else Rumlow might come looking when he didn’t find Steve or Bucky up in his apartment. 

“We don’t have much time,” Tony offered, verbalizing Steve’s concerns. “You better get him on his way before Rumlow or one of his lackeys shows up. This city’s not big enough that this won’t escape notice.” 

Steve gave a small nod, reaching out for Bucky’s hand. He was grateful when Bucky took his in return, following him as he moved towards the edge of the concrete pier. In the rain, the waters below looked dark and ominous, more likely to consume than offer the safe sanctuary they were supposed to. Steve swallowed thickly as he watched the water swirl below them, crashing up against the pier relentlessly. He gripped Bucky’s hand tighter, earning a confused whine in response. He let out another whimper, trying to pull Steve in closer again. 

_“You need to go,”_ Steve signed, heart throbbing as he slipped his hand out of Bucky’s grasp to do so. _“You need to escape before they find you. Alone. You’ll be faster alone.”_

Bucky warbled, displeased and saddened by Steve’s words. 

_“I don’t want to go alone,”_ he responded. _“You and me. Together.”_

Steve shook his head, tears starting to flow as his strength faltered. His lip quivered, hands shaking. If there was another way, he would have taken it in a heartbeat. 

_“No. You have to go alone,”_ he signed back, hands barely able to form the signs as his whole body shook with his grief. The heartbroken look on Bucky’s face only drove the stake in deeper, tearing the wound of losing him more ragged. It was hurting Bucky, too, the other’s hand still outstretched towards him. 

There was a _thud_ behind them, followed quickly by the deafening sound of two shots ringing out. Bucky flinched, hissing as he recoiled only for two bright red spots to appear in the upper portion of his torso. Blood seeped from them both, trickling across the brilliant scales and pale flesh of Bucky’s chest and stomach. Steve’s head whipped back to see Rumlow standing there, gun in hand. Tony’s form was slumped on the ground beside him, knocked out. 

“Thought you were gonna get away, did you?” Rumlow asked, the gleeful grimace looking even more terrible on his gashed face. “Thought I wouldn’t think to come check the docks when I found your apartment empty? You forget I dragged that _thing_ around, tracked it down in its own little shithole down in South America.It wasn’t too hard to figure out where you’d try to take him.” 

Sirens blared in the background, only furthering Steve’s panic. Bucky’s warble of pain behind him didn’t help any either. 

“The asset’s coming with me,” Rumlow responded. “We’re gonna get real well acquainted when they rip it open to see how it ticks. And you’re gonna be lucky if they can find all your pieces when I’m done with you.” 

_“Fuck you,”_ Steve signed in response, devastation and pain morphing into rage as he faced Rumlow. He had been the source of Bucky’s pain, and he had done _enough_. Far more than enough. Tears pricked the corners of his eyes once again, but these were tempered with rage that this monster had once again come to stand between them and happiness. 

“What did you say?!” Rumlow snarled, hiding his confusion behind rage. 

_“Fuck. You.”_ Steve signed, biting his lips and refusing to even mouth the words. The frustration and rage at being unable to understand while knowing it was an insult that was written on Rumlow’s face gave Steve a sense of satisfaction as he faced off against him. Rumlow would not break him nor would he get the satisfaction of holding fear over either of them any more. 

Steve turned to urge Bucky to go. If he swam away, Rumlow would never find him. As he turned, however, a third shot rang out. Blinding pain ripped through Steve’s torso, and he looked down to see the circle of blood rapidly darkening on the front of his shirt. He stumbled towards Bucky, the wet ground proving a slipper obstacle instead. He hit the ground, breath coming in pained gasps and wheezes as he struggled to come to grips with the fact that he had been shot. 

“You little, insolent _shit,_ ” Rumlow growled. Steve could faintly hear the sound of him reloading the weapon, closed his eyes as he willed himself not to show any terror at the notion that Rumlow was going to use those extra bullets on him. All the while, he willed Bucky to disappear into the water in his head. If Bucky made it out safely… this would all be worth it. 

He vaguely heard the sounds of another car arriving, the slammed doors and frantic sounds of Sam and Dr. Banner’s voices, though he couldn’t quite make out what they were saying. The pain was dulling, but everything seemed to be slowing around him. Fading, darkening, and swirling away from him like water slipping between his fingers. 

Steve opened his eyes, only just registering the towering form of Bucky. He attempted to call out and beg him to leave, but the words failed in the same raspy way words had failed him his entire life. 

“You- fuck, you’re really still moving?” Rumlow’s voice rang out, disbelieving and furious while also containing a certain note of awe. There was a hissing snarl from Bucky, a faint gurgling noise, and the _thud_ of a heavy object hitting the ground. Steve managed to tilt his head enough to catch the image of Rumlow’s body crumpled to the floor, a dark shadow leaking onto the pavement beside him. He vaguely registered that might be blood before his own grasp of consciousness slipped away, leaving him in darkness. 


	8. Chapter 8

The first sensation Steve remembered upon coming to was the sense of sinking. Water hugged his body tightly, folding it deeper into its depths as he slipped below the surface. For a moment, he thought he might have been pitched overboard into the sea by Rumlow. Whether in an effort to kill him or as a result of thinking he was dead, it made sense that he’d throw his body somewhere he might never be seen. 

The water, however, did not seem to be claiming him so much as welcoming him. Steve felt no terror as he slid deeper into the water, finding the sensation to feel much more like being welcomed home by an old friend. It was warm and inviting in a way that most spaces on land had never been. Dark and murky it may have been, but the water was also filled with a sense of revitalization and life. He spun around instead, attempting to get a view. 

There was a warble from somewhere behind him, followed by the same almost musical notes that had once drawn him to a metal tank inside a lab. Swirling around, Steve found himself once more face to face with Bucky. He was suspended before him in the water, bioluminescent gems flickering across his skin in an array of colors that portrayed his happiness. Steve thought he must have been dreaming— maybe they had both died in the wake of Rumlow’s onslaught and had found each other in the afterlife. It seemed like no description of the afterlife he had ever heard, but it didn’t feel like it could be anything else…

As soon as he noticed Steve was awake, he closed the distance between them eagerly, one arm wrapping firmly around Steve’s waist. The gesture felt not like keeping him aloft, but more like the tender gesture of someone drawing the person they held dear in closer. 

Bucky drew a hand tenderly over Steve’s neck, claws gently slipping over the scars there. Steve shivered and gasped— 

Only to realize that he wasn’t filling his lungs with water. The water moved through him instead, offering him the same sort of refreshment that a breath of fresh air did. 

Everything seemed so much clearer now, and as that sank in, he found himself pulling Bucky closer, drifting with him in the sea as he closed the gap between their lips. 

They were home. Together. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's all there is! (For now, of course) I hope you all enjoyed reading this. I am so incredibly grateful for this journey, even if I'm sad to see it finish. Look out for some possible extras later on!


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